Practical Magic
by KDSanders
Summary: Harry is having trouble with his homework...he finds help and maybe more in the hands of Ginny.


_(A/N: Sadly I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters in this book...I am simply playing around with the wonderful characters J.K. Rowling has given to the world)_

_**Practical Magic**_

Ginny's head jerked up as she heard a long sigh from a cross the common room. Sitting at one of the long study tables was Harry Potter looking very confusedly at his hand. Every so often, he would turn his gaze to the book that lay open in front of him, then back to his hand. Frustrated, he gave another sigh. At this, Ginny closed her Charms homework and crossed the room, taking a seat next to Harry.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh no," he said, "just having trouble with my Divination homework."

"Maybe I could help, what is it?"

Harry pushed his book away and faced Ginny. "We doing Palmistry right now, and we're supposed to examine someone's palm and write an analysis. I thought I could just read my own hand, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"Why not? Your hand's just as good as anyone else's."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you? But I suppose six years of Quidditch and years of other sorts of work have made them just about unreadable. I'd read Ron's but for one thing I can't find him and for another you can almost bet his hands are just as bad as mine."

"So, you need a palm to read," asked Ginny, thinking the answer to Harry's problems couldn't be that simple.

"Yep."

"Then you can read mine," she said holding out her hand.

"Oh, you don't have to," said Harry blushing for some reason, "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"Not really," she said, "I was just about to take a break from studying anyway."

"Oh…Okay…thanks." Harry could feel his heart race as he took her hand, palm up, in his. He cleared his throat. "Um…for starters, the color of your hand is an indicator of the kind of person you are. Yours are kind of pink," he said glancing at his book, "and that means you are hopeful, enthusiastic, bright natured, and upbeat. Wow," he said looking up at Ginny, "it's right."

Ginny's face now matched the pink of her palm, "Thanks, I'm glad you think I'm…upbeat."

Harry found himself strangely embarrassed at his poorly attempted compliment, but quickly looked back to her hand. "The texture of your palm can mean something, too. Your hand is smooth, so this says you're a very calm person who rarely loses their temper…"

Ginny sniggered, "Ron would argue with that."

Harry gave a shy little laugh and went back to reading, "…you keep your head in difficult times, that's true," he added quickly, making Ginny blush even more. "Even the shape of you're hand has a meaning. You've got what the book calls an 'artist's hand', rounded and soft with long slender fingers."

Ginny looked at her hand confused, "What do you mean rounded? Every one's hands are rounded aren't they?"

"No," Harry said, "Look at mine. They're kinda square and my knuckles are all big and awkward."

"I don't see a difference."

"Here," said Harry holding his wrist at a 90-degree angle, "put your hand up against mine and you'll see the difference."

Ginny slowly pressed her palm against Harry's. His hand was much larger than hers; in fact, if she lined the bottom of her palm up with his, her finger tips couldn't reach the pads of his long fingers. She assumed he was exaggerating about his hands being too hard to read; they felt nice and soft to her.

"See what I mean," he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts, "your hand curves at the bottom, and mine is kind of boxy."

"I see it now."

"And about the knuckles," he folded his fingers over her hand, interlacing their fingers, "yours are nice and equally proportioned with the rest of your hand, and mine just look likes knots on an old tree."

"Your hands aren't that bad…they may not be beautiful, but they can catch a snitch better than any I've ever seen."

Now it was Harry doing the blushing. Ginny's stomach was leaping; she could feel herself falling for Harry, again. Well, not again, she'd never really gotten over him in the first place, but after deciding to move on and put aside her foolish schoolgirl crush, here she was, holding his hand. She willed herself to let go, telling herself this could not last forever, she should just let go of his hand and let him get back to his assignment. Finally letting go, she asked, "What about lines? What do they all mean," she said pointing at the squiggles going across her hand.

"Well you've got seven basic lines," said Harry as he pointed them out on her palm, "your life line, head line, heart line, success line, fate line, health line, and your…um…love line."

Ginny nodded as Harry continued.

"The lines themselves are really just road maps, what you look for is interruptions or deviations in the lines. For example, this upward swish branching from your success line means a period of inspiration or happiness. And this one," he said brushing his finger across her palm, "this cross over your fate line signifies danger, but the square around it shows that the situation can be avoided or fixed. And this star looking thing on your love line," he said, finding it suddenly difficult to speak, "it symbolizes a sudden brilliance in that area, since it's on your love line; perhaps it's like your first kiss or something." Harry could feel his ears turning as red as Ginny's hair.

"Well then," she said, "if that's my first kiss, you've got to be looking into the future."

Ginny's cheeks burned in embarrassment. She couldn't believe she'd just said that to him. What could have possessed her to share something like that with Harry? She felt like she needed to run away and hide. Reluctantly, she shifted her down cast eyes upward meeting the perfect emeralds behind Harry's glasses. The look in his eyes was not embarrassment, nor was it anything else she'd seen in his eyes before. It was almost like a longing, a desire that she didn't quite understand. Just as quickly as their eyes had met, Harry's closed and Ginny felt his lips meet hers.

It was everything she'd ever imagined and more. She was _kissing_ Harry. Her heart was about to jump out of her chest when a bellowing voice filled the common room.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

The two broke contact and turned to see Ron looking very displeased.

"Ron," said Harry, "it's not what it looks like!"

"Oh really? Because it looked like you were kissing my sister."

Harry couldn't speak, he'd been caught. He had just kissed his best friends little sister and been seen.

"Calm down, Ron, you're over reacting. We were just…"

"Stay out of it Ginny, you're just flattered. **_You_**…." he said grabbing Harry up by his shirt, "how dare you take advantage of _my_ little sister? Everyone knows she's got a crush on you. C'mon, you're **_Harry Potter_**…but that doesn't mean you can use your fame to seduce her."

"Wait a minute…I did no such thing. Yes, I kissed her, but it's not what you think. I just…"

Before Harry could say anymore, Ron's fist met his temple sending his glasses flying across the room and Harry falling to the floor. Ginny kneeled at Harry's side cradling his head in her lap, "Ronald Bilius Weasley, how could you?"

"How could I? For your information, Ginevra, I was simply trying to protect you from this…this…philanderer."

Before Ron and Ginny could continue their shouting match, Hermione, who'd come in with Ron, stepped in.

"That's enough you two, you're making a scene. Let's move this some where more private, I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

"Good idea," said Ginny starting to help Harry up.

Ron gave her an oh-no-you-don't look, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her up to the boys dormitory as Hermione helped Harry. As soon as they reached Ron and Harry's room and the door closed behind them, Ron went back to yelling.

"What were you thinking Harry, kissing my little sister right there in broad daylight, like you aren't even ashamed to betray me?!"

"I wasn't betraying you Ron. I though you would want me to be happy," he said forgetting the girls were in the room, "and Ginny makes me happy."

"I _what_?"

Oh, her presence was remembered now. Harry turned to her, eyes down cast taking her hand, "You make me happy."

Ginny was at the point of tears, "You make me happy, too."

Harry raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and kissed his smiling lips.

"Ew, honestly do you have to do that here?" Three sets of eyes shot toward Ron. "Listen, I'm sorry I over-reacted and Harry, I'm sorry I hit you, but I don't want to see anyone kissing my sister."

A burst of laughter filled the room as Ginny and Harry moved apart.

"To think," laughed Ginny, "All of this because you need a hand for your Divination homework."

"Using her hand for Palmistry, that's a good line Harry, I should try it sometime. Oi' Hermione? Let me borrow your hand for a second." Ron jokingly ran his fingers over Hermione's palms; then brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. Hermione giggled and sighed, "Yep, it works."

The four settled down taking seats on Ron and Harry's beds. Ron leaned against the head of his bed arms wrapped around Hermione who was leaning against him, and Harry sat in the floor as Ginny lay on his bed running her fingers through his hair. She gently ran her fingers over the lump now rising where Ron had hit him. Harry winced.

"Oh, sorry," said Ginny, "I didn't mean to."

"Why are you sorry," Harry asked, "Ron's the one that hit me."

"What did you expect me to do when I saw you with your tongue down my sister's throat? Tip my hat and say hooray you finally noticed her? I don't think so."

"Well, sorry you had to find out that way, but it wasn't exactly planned, we just kinda…"

"Whoa, whoa," said Ron, burying his face in Hermione's hair, "I don't want to know the details."

_**The End.....Read and review please.**_


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